The Three Steps

Page 1,

He leered all around him while slowly walking towards the platform. They asked him to speak! Him! He glanced the room which's insinuating inconvenient, grey walls he was already used to after several visits. He recognized an old poster on the wall which the Ten Commandments were printed on. Next to it there was a little more recent poster with the Ten Proposals printed on it. He remembered those from proposal one to proposal ten, unlike the Ten Commandments.

Everything felt so slow as he walked towards the platform which symbolized everything which he had learned to believe in after the accident. Just three steps and he would stand on it. The three steps. The holy trinity. He almost started giggleing when he thought about stepping on Father, Son and the Holy Ghost, but he succeeded in retaining his dignity.

The walls felt like they were coming closer, although he walked away from them, to middle of the room. The room was filled with chairs which people sat on, people just like him. Those people were his friend, he knew it. Still he had never actually made friends with any of them. Their problems felt so distant, even though they were really simular to his problems.

He felt the old need, the same need he was told to resist, to oppose for the sake of the goodness of his soul. "Couldn't this walk happen any faster?" he asked himself while continuing to walk he felt like he had walked for two hours already. However, he had walked only a one meter forward, although the platform seemed to be alot further away from him.

The sweat begun to flow upon his face while he walked closer but away from it. The further away he went from it the closer came the platform and the closer he got to the platform the further away he was from other people in room, and the further away he was from other people the closer they were to him. "Maybe I could run away", he thought and started seriously think about this possibility. But then he understood that he had to do this. If not for himself, then for the kids!

The feet just moved so gott damn slow!

The platform had just been half a mile away but suddenly it stood right in front of him, merely two meters away. But he knew that walking even that two meters would take all that he had got. He felt the sweat in his armpits and heard them splashing when he moved his hands in the rhythm of his march.

"Think about God, think about God, think about God, think about God", he whispered himself when walked the first twenty centimeters of the last two meters.

Still the walls came closer. He startled when he felt the wall touch his back. Instinctively he turned his head just to see that the wall was right where it should have been, ten feet away from him looking as innocent as ever. He wanted to wag his fist for it and he did show his middle finger to it trough his breast pocket.

When he noticed that he couldn't feel his feet he started to panic. He felt the cold horror running trough his whole body like a lightning in middle of a lake. He also felt his heart getting it's share of this lightning and jumping to his throat. The throat sent a message about possible choking to his brains but the brains didn't get interested. They had already too much work to do controlling the forced walking which drained energy from him and his self-esteem all the time.

Finally he was on the platform. Slowly he raised his foot on the first step. Father. Then he raised his another foot on the second step. Son. After that he stepped on the third step. The holy ghost. He felt the sweat pouring awkwardly in his underwear. Finally he raised his right foor from the second step on the platform and one word flashed trough his mind, appearing from nowhere. Absolution.

Suddenly he couldn't hold it anymore and bursted into a hysterical laughter filled with fear. He wasn't catholic so this thought was even more amusing to him. It described the situation perfectly! However, the laughter quickly reformed into silent crying and his tears blent in with his sweat.

He raised also his another foot on the platform and positioned himself in front of the michrophone.

"Hi, I'm John", he said with an uncertain voice. "And I'm an alcoholic."